


Amoret to Grief

by Hallie_Blue



Series: The Playlist of Yuliya Plisetskaya [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ace/aro Yuri Plisetsky|Yuliya Plisetskaya, Aromantic Asexual Character, Background Character Death, Background Relationships, Demigirl Character, Demigirl Yuri Plisetsky, Future Fic, Gen, POV Second Person, POV Yuri Plisetsky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9533456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallie_Blue/pseuds/Hallie_Blue
Summary: When you're twenty-three it's not the same. Everyone shares their heartbreak over a shot of Crystal Skull or a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and no one is surprised because it's the same for everyone but no one tells you when you're fifteen and angry at the world already even though you haven't had a goddamn reason for it yet.





	

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Life doesn't get easier as you grow older. They don't tell you that when you're fifteen and trying to take on the world. They don't tell you a lot of things. They don't talk about how teen angst will turn into crippling depression or that obsessive perfectionism only ends in physical and emotional pain: a broken heart in most cases and broken bones in some. No one mentions independence is just a fancy word for terminal loneliness or how financial stability is a way to keep idle hands in motion and minds away from darker places. No one has the audacity to break the illusion of happiness children try to see in the lives of adults. 

 

When you're twenty-three it's not the same. Everyone shares their heartbreak over a shot of Crystal Skull or a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and no one is surprised because it's the same for everyone but no one tells you when you're fifteen and angry at the world already even though you haven't had a goddamn reason for it yet. 

 

When you're twenty-three, you walk with a limp because you never quite heal from a shattered leg all the way. Sure the bones mend and physical therapy makes sure you're not  completely crippled but you don't get to lace up your skates and land quads and win golds after that. Even if you  _ could _ in the sense of physical capability you wouldn't want to because you can't look at the ice without reliving the fall (the crash, the burn... the overwhelming numbness that scares you because it should hurt more and you know it). No one tells you this at fifteen either.  

  
  


No one tells you, at fifteen, that life is short. No one tells you about loss and grief and mourning. No one tells you that people who have bad backs and grey hair when you're a teenager might not be around when you're twenty-three or that life keeps moving forward even when you're twenty-two and can't go home because stuck a hospital bed in Quebec City. 

 

No one tells you these things beforehand because no one told  _ them _ and they figure you'll be okay because they were. 

 

At at fifteen no one tells you that twenty-three will find you holding a baby. It doesn't matter if you're ace/aro because even if you don't have kids you're friends will make up for it in excess. No one tells you that you'll cry, either, when you're twenty-five and your best friend and his husband name their second son after your late grandfather. You will cry though, no doubt about it. No one tells you how all consuming the love of a child is, even if they are not yours in name. You learn that yourself as you sing them to sleep with Russian lullabies so their Papa and Äke can rest for a change. 

 

No one tells you that fifteen years goes by too quickly and you'll be watching from the sidelines as they call you  _ Tetya _ and everything you wished you'd been told at fifteen gets pushed back  _ just one more year _ because you can't bring yourself to break the illusion of happiness for them. Not even as Timbits hockey turns to being scouted by the NHL and ballet lessons turn to Senior Debuts and “Tetya can you braid my hair for my school concert” becomes “Tetya can you do my make-up there's a cute girl in my physics class”. 

 

Instead you listen as they are angry at the world. You listen when they complain about their parents and calculus tests and how they don't understand why Anastasia Katsuki won't follow them on Twitter since they're friends in real life. So part of you knows that someday they too will become aware of all the things you've failed to prepare them for but all you can do now is hope that they get a few years more than you did if not a few decades.  


End file.
